In Sync

You’re walking down the street and a car pulls out of a parking slot. There on the ground is a refrigerator magnet in the shape of a star-struck half-circle with a big round moon face staring out of the middle of it, an exact replica of the design of your new business card.  For many it’s just an interesting coincidence, the stuff of Monday-morning chatter at the office.  Others, though, may recognize it as more than that. 

 I’m a true believer in a benevolent Universe, one that uses its limitless wisdom to deliver just the information and experiences we need to guide us down here in what astrologer Steven Forrest calls “the galactic grammar school.”  Synchronicity is a major one of its tools.  Circumstances or events occur without logical cause-and-effect connection, but are recognized as meaningful by someone attuned to looking at things symbolically, someone who recognizes, recognizing it as a message, may act in some way because of it.   

            Let me tell you how I know this really happens.

The Tale of the Karmann Ghia.  My husband and I spend our summers and early fall in a picturesque seaside town right here in Central New Jersey.  Porch-sitting is high on the list of preferred activities when we are there, and  porch-sitting would be key to the unfolding of this tale.

There we were, rocking away, Don with his daily copy of The New York Times, and I with Steven Forrest’s latest book.  I had just applied to join his training program in San Diego and had a slim-but-cherished hope that I would be accepted.   

“Don.  What a coincidence!  Forrest is writing about wanting to buy a Karmann Ghia years ago.  You never see those cars any more:  Porsche body on a Volkswagen engine.  They haven’t made them for more than 25 years.  You know, the first car that Ralph (first husband) and I ever bought was a used KG! ”

And as I lifted my head with this report, what comes sashaying down Main Avenue, impeccably restored and polished like a diamond, but a snazzy mustard-colored KG with beach paraphernalia jauntily smashed into its boot.  And damned if a parking spot for it doesn’t open up right across the street.  

“Don… Look!  Right there, in front of the restaurant:  A Karmann Ghia!  I don’t believe it!”

After the sun-streaked 30ish gathered their toys and headed for the beach, I sprang into action, taking a few pictures of the car from the exact vantage point on the porch where I first saw it.  Next, down to the street for a close-up inspection.   Running my hand along the smooth polished fender, I gazed at the wood-paneled dashboard.  A frisson of excitement.  I’m heading to San Diego.  I just know it.

The next week, there it was in my e-mail, the message I had been expecting: I was in!  

And then, only days later, September 11th.  How could I leave all whom I love here on one endangered coast and fly to the other?

October came and I was still agonizing over the decision, leaning more and more towards not going.  On the porch again, I was taking some technical notes from Forrest’s book and decided to reread the story of the Karmann Ghia, to remind myself that the Universe is at work even in times like these, and that all will be well again someday.   And what, against all odds, defying probability and even sanity, comes ambling up Main Avenue, but the Karmann Ghia, moving this time from the direction of the beach toward the main highway out of town.  As if to say, “Follow me!” 

And so I did…and it meant the world for the work I do.

These seemingly random occurrences aren’t random at all.  So look for them.  They’ll be there.  (And yes, the magnet is still there on my fridge.)


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